Barbie: An ode to womanhood

If you’ve been on the internet in the past few weeks, you would have seen articles, podcasts, and hour-long takedown videos by alt-right politicians labelling Barbie (2023) as ‘anti-man’. You also would have seen countless articles, TikToks, and social media posts of people responding to Barbie (2023) with tears, laughter, and connection, genuine and complex emotions about womanhood and girlhood. 

First of all; Yes, Barbie was good. Greta Gerwig’s writing and direction is hilarious and effective, but one thing shines through the strongest, and that is the incredible sense of warmth that characterises Gerwig’s filmmaking. She has such a strong focus on the human experience, which is funnily enough in full force in this film about plastic toys. The acting is fantastic. I knew Margot Robbie would be the perfect Barbie, because I knew she would get it. She would get the complicated and conflicting feelings. I didn’t realise that Ryan Gosling’s Ken would be an equally heavy hitter, but the moment he strutted onto the dance floor, I realised that he got it, too. Both of them had such fantastic comedic timing and emotional beats. 

Everything about this film is so perfectly curated, as it has to be when you’re in this alternate fantasy dreamland. The outstanding sets and costumes are elevated by the strong colour schemes, the fun and silly details, and the editing choices that turn the film into such a strong visual experience. The film overflows with camp energy. It’s clear in sparkly pink Barbieland, but still present even in the shiny grey corporate offices. This is not to say that the film is without criticism. Many have correctly pointed out that while there is a great diversity of Barbies, there is a lack of meaningful indigenous representation and some undercurrents of fatphobia. There’s also no escaping the chains of capitalism and hyper-consumerism. 

In general, however, Barbie is a fun, whimsical ode to women and girls (all women and girls, Barbie says trans rights), but also womanhood and girlhood. It’s an ode to children’s toys, from a distinctly nostalgic look. There’s subtlety about the past, acting and humour that can hit like a train if you were raised and socialised as a girl. There is this big collision between an adult, retrospective view of girlhood, and a girl’s view of adulthood through imaginative play.  

When engaging in social imitation play with dolls, little girls are interpreting and reproducing adulthood through their own understanding. This is still honestly fresh in my memory of playing with dolls, and this movie captures this child-like, limited understanding of social systems, while still incorporating elements and patterns of adult behaviour that we only notice as grown adults ourselves (like the semi-universal female experience of having a man play guitar at you). It’s part of the genius of the film. It relies on us as an audience and our experience of the complicated absurdity, contradiction, community, and power of being a woman.  

It is labelled as anti-man for its ‘stereotypes’ about male interests. Imagine you’ve asked a small child, playing with toys, “what do men like?” They might think for a minute and answer, “horses.” Or, “big cars, martial arts, sports, sunglasses, guitars…” You get it, right? It’s hardly different from the way the Barbies love ‘woman’ things like makeup, shoes, friendship, and feelings. The kens aren’t representative of men; they’re representative of patriarchy. They show that the shackles of gendered expectations don’t just affect women, but everyone. All the time, women enjoy (or are expected to enjoy) media that is made by, for, and about men (trust, that’s a lot of media). That doesn’t exclude us as women from enjoying that media, but when it is the other way around, that doesn’t seem to be the case as often. Barbie is a film made by, for, and about women, which is a rare occurrence that usually makes some men confused and uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t preclude you from enjoying it no matter your gender. 

If you don’t understand Barbie (2023), that’s fine, it’s not for you. You have other things that are for you (Transformers, I guess? Not sure what men are into these days), and not for me, but I don’t go around claiming they are hateful because of that. But Barbie was made for me. And my mum, and my mother-in-law, and my colleagues, and my student peers, and my friends. When we get together in groups, laugh, connect, dress in pink, and giggle our way to the theatre, “that doesn’t diminish our powers… it expands them!”